


Sleek Demons for Good Times

by gleamingandwholeanddeadly (something_safe), printersdeadly, printersdevils (tuesdaysgone)



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Beverly Katz is the Best, Blow Jobs, Chef Hannibal Lecter, Halloween Costumes, Hand Jobs, Hannibal Lecter is Not a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is a Tease, Kinda, M/M, Vampires, Will is smitten, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27373834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/something_safe/pseuds/gleamingandwholeanddeadly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/printersdeadly/pseuds/printersdeadly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaysgone/pseuds/printersdevils
Summary: The one where they all work in a restaurant instead of for the FBI, and it's nearly Halloween, and costumes are required.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 34
Kudos: 316





	Sleek Demons for Good Times

**Author's Note:**

> This is our (late! so very late!) entry for Deadly's #VampireHannibalFest. I'd like to think that the rule is that if you're still eating Halloween candy, it's essentially still Halloween, so - have a candy bar and enjoy!
> 
> <3 L&Deadly

"I'm telling you," Bev says, kicking with the toe of her sneaker at half a broken brick as she and Will pass a cigarette back and forth in the alley behind the restaurant. "He gives me the heebie-jeebies. Are we sure his last name isn't Dracul?"

"He's Lithuanian, not Transylvanian. He told me."

"Ooh, he told you? When were you chatting with the new head chef, William?"

"I stop back and talk to him when I have time. He's _new_. Seemed polite."

Bev laughs. " _So_ polite, Will. My god, let me see your neck. Are you okay?"

"I had a string of garlic around it."

"Restaurants are good for something." She sticks out her tongue when he steals the cigarette back.

"They certainly are. Still smell a bit funny though."

"Hate to break it to you, but you look funny too."

"I haven't seen my reflection in a while. Not sure why."

Bev laughs uproariously. "Oh man, you're toast."

Will grins at her, flicking the butt of the cigarette onto the floor outside. He's not a big smoker, he just joins Bev every now and again. "He's nice, Bev," he mumbles.

"He seems weird. Hot though."

Will sighs. He _is_ hot. "He's very hot. He asked me to stay after my shift tonight," he confides.

"Oh?" Her eyebrows raise.

"Not - he said something about new menu items, I don't -" Will sighs.

"Oh, are you the new menu listing?"

"Ha ha," Will grumbles. "I regret everything."

"Just make sure you wear a cross okay?"

"Just for you." Will smirks, rolling down his sleeves. "What's your obsession with vampires at the minute anyway? Found a new genre of porn novellas?"

"It's almost Halloween, Will! I need _seasonally appropriate_ porn."

"God, I knew it." He takes a swig of his coffee. "Any recommendations?"

"Sure. I'll bring you the ones I liked. There was a lot of variety."

"You know I like variety." Will snorts.

"There's werewolves, incubi, all the good stuff."

"What a friend."

"That's me." Bev stretches and then makes sure her shirt is tucked in neatly. "Time to go back in there and cash out. You're closing?"

"Sure am. I'll see you on the other side."

Will takes another minute after Beverly leaves. The relentless teasing is fun, but Hannibal, the new chef, isn't exactly the blood drinking type - he just happens to be an incredibly accomplished chef. And Will is a broke grad student. He's not about to turn down a free tasting menu. Not even from an actual vampire.

He smiles at the thought: a handsome one. Then he lets himself back in through the back door.

The restaurant is packed, and the manager Bella gives him a raised eyebrow as he rushes to collect plates. He gives her a thin smile in response. He's keeping his end up, even if he's...distracted today. Generally Bella is more than fair, but the surprise table of twelve has thrown them all for a loop. It's not his, thank the lord, but he's helping. Supposed to be helping. He's mostly helping, though his own table is pretty demanding. Luckily he's good at this job.

The rest of the night passes in a blur of action. When Will finally cashes out, he's distracted from stocking the bar by watching Jimmy Price, the sommelier, fussily adjusting some of their classy Halloween decor that's gotten askew. The restaurant has been transformed from a modern space to a gothic, church-like haunt, with lace spiderwebs, taxidermy and smoked glass chandeliers adorning the usual fixtures. 

It's tasteful, of course; they'll be hosting a costume theme on the night. Will doesn't know what he'll wear yet, but he has time. A couple of days, anyway.

When Jimmy finally bids him a cheerful goodnight, Will can't procrastinate any longer, and eyes the kitchen with nervous anticipation.

He wonders if Hannibal, the new executive chef, will dress up, then scoffs to himself: Beverly would mock him if she were still here to see him hovering. That doesn't stop him though, filling the glass wash slowly. He's waiting for a particular voice to greet him. And soon enough, it does.

"Will, you stayed," Hannibal says from the kitchen doorway, a smile in his voice.

Will looks up, ears turning pink. "Well, you asked me to."

"I did," Hannibal replies. "Are you ready to taste the new dishes?"

"Sure, though I reiterate once more that I'm not a restaurant critic."

Hannibal smiles. "Of course, but you are honest. I've heard you speak to Bella and the others and you're not afraid to speak your mind."

"Ha, usually not what people choose my company for."

"I didn't say it was the only reason. Come," Hannibal gestures.

Will goes, head ducked. When he'd lingered, Bella had given him a raised eyebrow before she'd told him to take the trash out before he locked up. As if Hannibal would let that chore go undone in his kitchen. He's a distinct upgrade from their last chef, Will thinks stubbornly. And Franklyn, their dishwasher, clearly worships him. Will doesn't exactly blame him; Hannibal is an... _experience_ to watch cook.

Now, he starts to heat two pans on the stove, gesturing Will to sit down. Will does, pulling his water bottle out of his bag to take a sip. "Busy night tonight," he murmurs.

"It certainly was." Hannibal smiles into his pan, and Will admires his profile.

"I think word is getting out about you."

"Is that so?"

"Mm-hm. I saw Bella's reservation book for Saturday night. Practically full already."

"I'm glad to hear it, though perhaps it's the ambience of the place. The service."

Will laughs a little, ruffling his curls, inexplicably self-conscious. "Those aren't _bad_ , but they aren't why."

"Well, I won't dodge a compliment twice."

Will watches as he moves to a cutting board, knife flashing as he cuts a piece of meat into paper-thin medallions before transferring the red strips into one of the pans, where it softly hisses. "How long have you been a chef?" Will asks.

"Oh, many years now," Hannibal hums. "I've been cooking since I was very young."

"I guess that explains how good you are with a knife."

That gets him a considering glance, and a smile. "Thank you, Will."

Closing his eyes, Will tries not to acknowledge his own embarrassment. He's not good at small talk. Never has been. _Good with knives. I sound like a pervert._

He feels like a pervert. He's sitting here watching Hannibal work, but he's really just looking at him.

"Tell me about yourself, Will," Hannibal prompts, perhaps aware of the quiet.

"I'm in grad school," Will says, tapping his fingers lightly on the counter.

"Studying what?"

"Forensics," Will replies.

That gets him a flash of those dark eyes. "Very impressive."

"I like lab work," Will replies. "But our stipends are terrible. Bev convinced me to come work here part time."

"Then I suppose I should extend her my gratitude."

God. Beverly would enjoy that far too much. "I suppose you should."

Their eyes meet and hold for a moment before Hannibal continues searing the veal medallions. Then, he stirs, tosses, and tastes before starting to plate. He's making small portions, but presenting them beautifully with various other morsels. It seems habitual for him.

"I don't know how you do this stuff, it's like art."

"It is art, and art is life, like food is life." Hannibal watches Will cut a bite and raise it to his lips. His eyes are so intensely focused. Will feels heat rising to his cheeks. When he takes a bite, he has to dip his head and cover his mouth.

"Wow," he murmurs when he swallows.

Hannibal tilts his head, a tiny smile touching the corners of his eyes. "What is your favorite part?"

"It's all incredible, but the meat is _perfect._ "

"Good," Hannibal murmurs. "Ready for something else?"

"Can I have one more bite of this?"

"I'll leave it there for you." The chef smiles.

Will does have another bite, relishing the tender flesh; the faintest hint of blood within. As he finishes, he watches Hannibal pull something out from under the salamander. Everything smells _incredible_. This is some sort of vegetable dish, squash and other things the color of fall, with lovely melted cheese and some sort of toasted nuts. Pine nuts, he thinks. He hums in pleasure at the taste, autumnal and sweet.

"What are your thoughts on the cheese?" Hannibal asks. Will thinks he's watching his mouth, but - he's eating, after all.

"Delicious," he says again, unimaginatively. "It's - it feels very comforting but still elegant."

Hannibal reaches over and sprinkles something over the top, something red. Will thinks it's paprika. "And now?"

"Hm, yeah. I don't know if it needs something green?"

"Some arugula, perhaps." Hannibal hums.

"Yeah. It's delicious but it's very rich."

"That can be enjoyable," Hannibal murmurs, "but allow me to balance it."

"I mean, I am enjoying it."

"Still." Will watches as Hannibal crosses to another pan that's sitting under very low heat, and quickly pours its contents into hollowed out oranges.

"What's that?" He forks another mouthful of vegetable into his mouth. He can smell chocolate, and citrus, and something else.

"Sanguinaccio dolce," Hannibal tells him.

"Sounds...fancy? What is it?"

"A mixture of dark chocolate, almond milk, orange oil and blood." He pauses and cocks his head at Will.

"Halloween menu?" Will guesses.

"Yes. I felt inspired." He slides one last plate with an orange and a spoon over to Will.

"There's a lot here, don't you want some?"

"I'll have some later," Hannibal demurs. Will tries not to laugh, mind going back to Beverly and her theories.

"Come on," he smiles, offering another spoon, "you're gonna make me eat alone?"

Hannibal only hesitates for a moment. "Very well." He comes to perch at the stainless steel counter with Will.

Up close, he smells like spices and expensive cologne. Will watches him dip his spoon into the chocolate, twisting it neatly. Then he licks the bowl clean with a flash of pink tongue. Will tries to concentrate on his own spoonful, in danger of dripping onto his wrist. He can't help staring. Hannibal merely seems amused.

"Has, uh, have - Jack or Bella tasted the new menu items yet?" Will stammers.

"You're the first."

"Thanks," Will murmurs. "It's nice of you to - uh. Think of me."

"Well, you have so far been the most critical of my menu."

"I -" Will feels his face flush: he might have mentioned it sounding pretentious at some point before he knew how good Hannibal was. "Well, I wouldn't say critical-"

"It's a compliment. I appreciate honesty."

"I'm just - I can tell what people like when they're out there, you know?"

"Of course." He smiles.

"I think you might like to test people, as well."

"I like to experiment, most chefs do."

"I can tell," Will murmurs.

Hannibal smiles. "I'd like to think I'm winning you over."

"Chocolate blood pudding? Definitely." He smiles, knowing it's a big, goofy one.

"I'm a firm believer in acknowledging our inner carnivore," Hannibal says, with a barely quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah, I'll admit I'm a meat-eater." Will tries not to blush.

"I can tell."

He's just across the counter now, and his eyes look nearly crimson in the kitchen lights. He really does look like some ethereal creature of the night, complete with white streak in his hair. He's breathtaking, and Will has no idea how he could ever tell him.

He bites his lip. "This is delicious."

"Yes," Hannibal murmurs. "It is." His eyes are not on the dessert.

Will looks down, ears pinking. "It's late. Can I help you clean up?"

"No, you can eat the food I made for you, and relax. You've been on your feet all night."

"So have you."

"Not exactly the same." He nudges a plate closer, and Will picks up another forkful of the lovely vegetables. That makes Hannibal smile wider this time, revealing sharp teeth. "Unusual eating habits."

"I'll try anything twice," Will jokes.

"Do you prefer savory to sweet?"

"I do," Will admits.

"Interesting."

"I can't be the only one."

"I'm sure you're not." He smiles again. "I know you're not."

"Are you one of us?

"Would you like me to be?"

Will laughs. "I just want to know you."

"Then keep eating," Hannibal tells him.

Will does as he's told. It does make him feel like he knows something about Hannibal, but not what he perhaps wants to know most. "You like the job so far?"

"Very much," Hannibal murmurs. "I like that Firenze is a small place. So many restaurants these days value turnover. I like to take my time when dining."

"That's Bella's take too, I think. She wants it to be an experience."

"Yes. We've talked about it. I'm glad you agree."

"Oh, sure." Will ducks his head again. Hannibal is still watching him eat. "What started your interest in cooking?"

"Being hungry," Hannibal replies simply.

That makes Will laugh. But Hannibal isn't laughing. "Hungry?"

"Yes, in my home country. There were...troubles."

Will frowns softly. "You were poor?"

"For a time. Several years of my childhood."

"Me too," Will says quietly. "We used to fish, or we might not eat." He smiles. "Got good at fishing."

"I got good at hunting," Hannibal smiles. He takes Will's empty plates and stacks them in the washer. "I'll cook you fish next time."

Will pulls the remaining chocolate dessert toward him and takes up his spoon once more. "Next time?"

"Next time I cook for you," Hannibal smiles.

Will turns pink, smiling. "Doesn't seem fair on you."

"Please, allow me my pleasures," Hannibal murmurs back.

Everything he says sounds like something filthy whispered into Will's ear. Maybe it's a vampire thing. Will laughs at himself. Hannibal's gaze looks amused, too. _Hope the mind reading thing isn't true, or I'm toast._

"Who am I to deny you?" Will says eventually.

"Thank you, Will."

"Thank you." Will eats the last spoonful of the sanguinaccio dolce with relish. He closes his eyes for a moment. "God, that's good. I really - it's so late, but -"

"Can I give you a lift home, Will?"

"No, I have my car, it's all right," he whispers.

He thinks maybe Hannibal looks a little disappointed. "Very well."

"But I'll see you Saturday," Will adds. "I'm...looking forward to it."

"As am I. Will you be wearing a costume?"

"We sort of have to," Will says with a little groan. "Halloween is not exactly my favorite holiday. Are you?"

"Of course," Hannibal flashes him a smile, no teeth.

"Good. I - good. It'll be - fun." He knows he doesn't sound convincing.

"Fun." He sounds like the word tastes strange to him. Not terribly convincing either. "I'm sure we can come up with something between us to make it more bearable."

Will wants to blush, again, but he's been pretty obvious and the man is still talking about cooking for him again. So maybe he doesn't have to be embarrassed. Hannibal shoots him a smile again, and Will comes to help him wash up.

Most of it goes into the dishwasher, and Will finds himself with a takeout container full of some more of the roasted vegetables for his trouble. Then Hannibal shoos him very gently out the back door.

"Have a good evening, Will," he says pleasantly. The harsh overhead light picks out the rise of his cheekbones and the seal-sleekness of his hair.

Will looks at him for a long second. 

"Good night, Hannibal," he whispers. Then, before he can do anything stupid, he hurries for his car.

For some reason, his heart is hammering. He slips in behind the steering wheel and breathes for a few long minutes, staring at the closed door of the restaurant back entrance. Then he heads home, staring thoughtfully at the dark streets. He thinks perhaps Hannibal scares him a little, always calm and soft-spoken. Always effortlessly in control. He's so self assured, and it chafes at Will, who just isn't.

He wants to _learn_. He wants to know Hannibal, who is so hard to know. He wants those hands to touch him, too.

Careful, and controlled, and strong. It makes him shiver to consider. He wants to go back. His day off tomorrow is going to feel endless.

Strange, that he misses work now. Not waiting tables, though. Just the man in the kitchen. Seeing glimpses of him is so soothing. He never shouts; no "order's up" barked over the counter. It's like a ballet. Seamless control, no matter what they send back to him.

Letting himself into his apartment building, he sees a paperback book propped against his door and laughs. Beverly has been by while he ate veal and chocolate blood pudding with their head chef. He picks up the book, soft-cornered from being handled, probably second hand originally.

 _My Vampyr Lover_ , the cover proclaims in dripping font. Will cackles somewhat breathlessly.

"Fucking Bev," he snorts, before tucking the book under his arm and heading inside.

*

Saturday night, he finds Bev herself at his door, bouncing excitedly. Maybe impatiently. She's wearing pinstripes and a fedora like a Prohibition bootlegger and she looks completely amazing, as usual.

"Am I late on my payments, boss?" Will quips.

"The accent doesn't match the costume," Beverly tells him. "Can you do a fancy British one?"

"Poe was from _Baltimore_ ," Will protests, pointing to the raven on his shoulder.

"Oh, I thought you were just a Victorian Goth."

"Ah yes, that Halloween favorite."

"Clearly you've never heard of Tim Burton." Bev efficiently straightens up his shoulder bird and hands him his bag, hustling him towards the door. "Love the eyeliner, by be way."

"Thanks," Will grumbles. "It's meant to be eye bags."

"Eh," Bev shrugs, "if you used the cheap stuff it'll creep down there soon enough."

"I definitely did." He definitely was still reluctantly working on his costume an hour ago too, and it's really ended up more of a caricature thank anything. Black pinstripe suit, neck tie, awkward parting in his hair- and of course the raven. He'd considered a moustache, but decided he was just Poe after a rough night.

He lets himself be hustled the whole way to Bev's car, listening to her tell some story about Price from yesterday's shift. Then, she casts him the side-eye. "Did you get my gift?"

"Yeah, thanks," he says dryly.

"Did you read it?"

"Maybe," Will says after a long pause.

She guffaws. "And?"

"It was okay."

She snickers uncharitably. "Can I have it back then?"

"Not yet."

As expected, she enjoys that far too much. "Annotating it?"

He flips her off. That just makes her laugh more.

"Can I please be in the kitchen when you go in to pick up your first round of entrees?" she giggles.

"You may not." Obviously he can't stop her, but he thinks she'll get the hint.

"No fun," Bev hums.

"I'm wearing a bird, I think that means I'm kind of fun."

"A pirate would have been more fun."

"I like Poe," Will says stubbornly.

"That figures."

Bev chatters the rest of the way to the restaurant. When they arrive, Will is delighted to see that everyone has followed the costume party brief, even Jack and Bella, who are Frankenstein's monster and his bride, respectively. They're so adorable. Will actually feels fairly fond of them.

"Looking good," he tells Jack, grinning.

Jack sketches a brief bow - he'll probably go up to the office soon, but he's making an effort.

Will clocks in and gets to work. Since it's a Saturday, the reservations start early. He finds himself back in the kitchen soon enough. There, he finally sees Hannibal. He's usually surprisingly pristine, but tonight he's given up the chef's whites for a full suit.

Trim, entirely fitted, black and stark and elegant, hair aggressively slicked. When he turns to Will, there's a barely noticeable spatter of crimson on his white shirt. He sees Will, and smiles, and Will sees a flash of _fangs_ and barely holds back a squeak.

"Hi," he says helplessly. "So, uh. You went with vampire. You look great." He _knows_ he's blushing. He also knows, somehow, that Hannibal has overheard him and Bev. 

"One of my favorite novels when I was a young man, _Dracula_." He pronounces it with a faint accent.

"Mine too," Will murmurs.

"Is that so?" Hannibal smiles again. He looks Will up and down. "'And so being young and dipped in folly, I fell in love with melancholy'," he murmurs.

"You know Poe," Will says, only a little breathless. "Beverly thought I was a Victorian Goth."

"I suppose she wasn't entirely wrong."

Will snickers. "Don't tease me, it's not nice."

"You don't enjoy being teased?" He keeps his eyes steady on Will as he asks.

"It - I guess it doesn't happen often."

"That's a crying shame, Will," Hannibal murmurs. He gives him another one of those sharp smiles.

"Is it?" Will bites his lip as Hannibal comes closer.

"I think it is. It suits you. The blush on your cheeks. Lovely"

"This suits you too," Will murmurs.

"What's that?"

"The, ah. Gothic look." He knows he's blushing harder now.

"Oh?" A smile tugs at Hannibal's lips. "I must say, my interests have always run to the morbid."

"You don't say, Mister blood and chocolate."

A smile at that. "You enjoyed it."

"Of course I did, you made it."

Hannibal's expression warms at that. He reminds Will of a cat. "I said I wanted to cook for you again," he murmurs, "maybe tonight -"

"I'd like that," Will says, quickly. His cheeks warm. His breath picks up when Hannibal reaches for him, tracing the dark smudge of kohl under his eye. The contact renders him entirely speechless.

"You've done a good job here," he murmurs. "But I do prefer you without."

"So you don't think it should become a regular thing?"

"Not on my account." Will gets a flash of his fangs as he speaks.

"I like these, though," he chuckles, gesturing to his own teeth.

Hannibal presses the pad of his thumb into one of the points. It's startlingly attractive.

"Sure they're not real?" Will murmurs.

"Not quite, though mine are - not far off."

"I've...noticed."

"Pleased to be the subject of such study." He smiles, just barely. "May I make a confession?"

"Yes," Will breathes.

"Your conversation with Beverly the other day... it inspired my costume choice."

Will's breath stalls, and he suddenly turns red. "Hannibal, you weren't meant to hear -"

"I'm not offended." He's really close. Will has to look _up_.

"Good, because we were just being-"

Hannibal's thumb presses against Will's lips instead. "It's all right," he whispers.

Will breathes in. His heart is hammering so loudly in his chest; everyone must be able to hear it. The thumb moves aside, strokes down his cheek.

"Will, I would like to ask -"

Will holds his breath, but Zeller comes through the door in the next moment.

"Hey, Gomez Addams and - Gomez Addams?" He points at them both.

"Wrong," Will tells him with a sniff. "What're you anyway?"

Brian points at his head. "Werewolf. There was a tail, but table three got a little uh. Fresh."

"Huh." Will doesn't bother to hide that he's unimpressed.

"Service, please," Hannibal says, and Will hurries to comply before he and Brian can get into it. He feels that something has been cut short, though.

The irritation lingers, but the night does not. He's never seen so many people come in in fancy dress before. It's sort of nice, seeing everyone. Some of the costumes - obviously the product of a great amount of time and money - are incredible. The other servers are in high spirits - no pun intended. It feels more like a party than a work shift, not that Will has much frame of reference. Will hates parties, but he's busy so he doesn't think too much, and it's... good. Seeing Hannibal as he picks up orders is better.

He can't help but how completely in control Hannibal seems, never rushing or stressed but effortlessly timely. He looks gorgeous tonight, too. Like he's not even wearing a costume, except for those...fangs. Will has never realized entirely how tall he is. Or how broad his shoulders are, or how trim his waist....

It's at this juncture that Will totals a stack of three dirty plates in the passageway from the restaurant to the kitchen.

"Shit," he hisses, kicking them out of the walkway and going for a dustpan and broom. So distracted thinking about a fucking vampire.

He was flirting tonight. Will _can't_ possibly be wrong about that. He hopes not. He goes to dump the broken bits and Hannibal looks up.

"Not like you," he observes.

"Unfortunately it is. If I'm distracted."

Smiling slightly, Hannibal looks back to where he's sautéing vegetables. "That's not like you either."

"Not _always_ ," Will says meaningfully.

"I apologize. You're just as clumsy and distractible as anyone else."

"Not you." Will comes closer.

"I have my moments." He glances back. "Will-"

"Yeah?" He looks up from where he's dumping the shards into the trash.

"Come here?"

Will takes a step, but at that moment, Bella enters, Beverly on her heels. "Everything all right back here?" she asks in her smooth voice.

"Yeah, I was just cleaning up my mess," Will mutters.

"As long as you're okay," she murmurs.

"Just clumsy," Will snorts.

"Are you done back here? I can grab your next orders," Bev offers.

Will glances at Hannibal, but sighs. "I'm done, I'll go." He washes his hands quickly and goes back to the window. Then, it's back onto the floor for the last couple of hours until close.

Once the reservations are finished, Bella steps onto the floor to help with busing and drinks delivery. They're starting to wind down. The customers are more relaxed as well, the last seating enjoying their desserts and coffees and drinks. Will picks up a good chunk in tips. He offers to take the closing shift, though, mind back on Hannibal.

"I got you," he assures Beverly. "You wanted to go to a Halloween party later right? Don't worry, I can stay. Not one for parties."

She grins. "You're not fooling me for a second, but I won't say no either."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Will tells her crisply.

"Mmhm. Mind control. It's all in the book," she says knowingly.

"That was definitely the takeaway."

"I knew it." He rolls his eyes and she punches his shoulder. "Hope you're up on your iron supplements."

"Go drink with the science boys," he tells her.

"All right, if you insist."

Will goes back to his clearing. When the tills are balanced and the coolers and bar restocked, Bella comes to bid him goodnight.

"Thanks for closing tonight," she tells him.

"No problem," he says, shrugging. She smiles and straightens his raven.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Will."

"Have a nice night, Mrs. C."

"And you." She smiles and lets herself out the front door, locking it behind her.

Will carries on wiping down the bar, eyes down. He can hear the faint sound of china from the kitchen. Jack left earlier, and the other waiting staff were on the early. Walking a last tray of glasses back to the kitchen, he hears Hannibal call back to Franklyn to head home once he's finished with the dishwasher.

"Are you sure?" Franklyn asks.

"Quite sure, thank you. You've done a lovely job tonight."

"All right, thanks, chef." He smiles bashfully at Will as he comes in. "I could wash those?"

"It's just three glasses, Franklyn, I'll hand wash them. Go on now," Hannibal adds, "before I change my mind."

They both watch Franklyn scurry off, carefully not meeting each other's eyes. Will moves to the sink to rinse the glasses. It only takes a few minutes and when he turns, Hannibal is finishing sorting the produce in the refrigerator.

"Just going to the bathroom," Will blurts, because his nerves are suddenly getting on top of him - and he's sure he looks a nightmare.

Hannibal looks up, but Will has already gone, and then he's rinsing his face in the staff restroom. He uses the corner of a paper towel to wipe away the bulk of the eyeliner. And the cheek bones. He unpins his avian accessory for good measure, settling a bit back into himself. Then he heads back, the raven tucked under his arm.

"I guess the costumes were a hit tonight," he says.

"I guess they were." Hannibal smiles at him. "No," he corrects himself softly. "I know they were. You look beautiful."

Will's heart kicks hard. "Hannibal...."

"It's true."

"Even with black eyes?" Will grins.

"Always, if I may admit it."

His response comes out in a whisper. "You may."

"I hoped you'd say that."

Will smiles, leaning back against the counter. "Come on then."

Hannibal steps over to box him in. No Brian this time to interrupt.

"Thought about this a lot," Will admits quietly.

"Tell me what you pictured, then," Hannibal smiles.

"Not so much the costumes," Will murmurs, with a smile of his own, "but when I think about it, it's a lot like this."

Hannibal leans in, scenting the curls at his temple. "In my kitchen?"

"Yeah, with you close," Will nods, eyes flickering closed, heat shooting through him just at his proximity.

"I like my home kitchen best, but this one is growing on me."

"You'll have to show me."

"Yes," Hannibal breathes, sliding a hand around the back of his neck, "I will."

With wordless agreement, Will boosts himself onto the steel counter so he can guide Hannibal between his knees, and then he presses in to kiss him with a long-held sigh. He's warm and strong and faintly scented with copper and citrus and chocolate. Herbs on his hands, coffee in the back of his mouth when his lips part.

Will groans softly as the tips of his fangs prickle his bottom lip. He slips his hands to the back of his neck, scarcely daring to disturb his hair but wanting him closer. Hannibal presses in further, and Will's thighs cling to his hips. Their kisses seem loud in the quiet kitchen, breaths echoing.

Will wants to moan as soon as their lips part again. It's met with a small smile.

"Enough showing?"

"No, not at all." Will uses his calves to pull him in tighter. "Kiss me again."

Hannibal doesn't hesitate. It's deep and possessive, like he's been waiting to taste Will this way for months. Maybe he has. Will has been waiting too. It's been worth it. Every glimpse of Hannibal in the kitchen, curved crimson lips and strong forearms.

Will has to touch one at the thought, thumb skimming over veins and muscle. He curves his fingers around the limb.

"Hannibal," he murmurs against his lips, pulse jumping.

"I am listening."

"I want more."

"More?" Hannibal repeats, lips trailing down his jaw and throat.

"Please, yes.." Will laughs giddily, drunk on kisses. "Planning on biting my neck?"

"Planning on enjoying if I do?"

Will's laugh cuts off like a hiccup. "Maybe?"

Hannibal kisses him again softly.

"Please don't stop," Will murmurs.

"I won't. I won't."

His lips continue to explore Will's jaw and throat. It's making Will's breath stall in his throat. Not that he's expecting a bite. Really. But the barest skim of teeth makes him stutter.

He hears Hannibal laugh softly. "Are you all right, Will?"

"Wondering if I should have worn the garlic after all."

"A cunning ruse from vampires. Garlic is a blood thinner."

"Really?"

"I think so." He nuzzles Will again. "Don't quote me, I'm a chef, not a doctor."

"Hm, I believe you."

Will leans in to kiss him again. He skims his thumb against Hannibal's jaw. Skin still smooth, with just the barest hint of stubble. It's harder to stay calm and slow now. He's young, after all. And Hannibal is thrilling and gorgeous.

Will rolls his hips forward, seeking contact. Hannibal's big hands smooth down his back, gripping at the small of his back and hitching him closer. They both make a soft noise.

"Hannibal," Will whines.

"This... isn't the place?" Hannibal murmurs.

"I - it isn't?"

"It can be the place."

"I want it to be." Will whispers it in his ear, feels the way he tenses against him, hands tightening.

"What would Uncle Jack think?"

"Hopefully that I'm lucky." He gets a hand into Hannibal's hair. "Am I getting lucky?"

"I like to think so." Hannibal kisses him again, and now a hand slips up to stroke at Will's chest; the column of his throat. He seems to handle Will so effortlessly.

Will tightens his legs. "God, Hannibal," he breathes, letting his lips part when Hannibal slides two fingers up his chin; sucking the tips slowly.

"Tell me?" Hannibal murmurs.

"I want you," Will repeats. "Please."

He captures the fingers again for good measure. Hannibal gently presses deeper.

"That's good," he praises.

Will gasps and sucks, eyes flickering closed.

"Your mouth is lovely."

"Fuck," Will mutters. He feels like he's on fire. He's breathing quick, Hannibal's hand on his jaw, the other smoothing onto his hair. Will runs his hands up Hannibal's chest, holds onto his shoulders and lets Hannibal press gently deeper.

Hannibal strokes his tongue, gazing into his eyes. "Pretty little thing," he purrs. "I can never look away when you're in my kitchen."

Will sucks the tips of his fingers; pulls back. "Yeah?"

"Truth," Hannibal murmurs. "You must feel me watching you. I'm sure you do."

"I do," Will says softly, with a shiver.

"Good," Hannibal rumbles. His deft hands are working Will's shirt buttons, leaving a little damp in their wake. He leans to kiss his exposed chest then.

"Beautiful boy. Let me see you."

"Anything you want," Will says helplessly. He helps Hannibal push the cloth down and off, only shivering a little. Then Hannibal reaches for his flies. Will squeaks just a little as his fingers brush over the fabric bulge.

"This is very promising," Hannibal whispers.

"Is it?"

"It certainly is."

"Show me," Will begs softly. A moan stalls in his throat when Hannibal cups him; gently rubs, just a tease, before pressing his hand inside his open zipper.

"It is, because it means I can do this."

Will presses his face into his neck with a groan. "Yes, you can do that all you like," he breathes.

"I shall fully exploit permission, trust me." And then he starts to stroke.

Will gasps into his chest. "God, that uh - might not last long."

"Sweet boy," Hannibal says, sounding amused. "That's all right. We have plenty of time."

"Do we?"

"If you agree to come home with me," Hannibal murmurs.

"Yes," Will says immediately.

"Wonderful. I do think perhaps we ought to...take the edge off first."

"Oh yeah?"

"How would you like to do that, Will?"

"I'd like to suck you," Will murmurs.

He watches Hannibal smile. "That can certainly be arranged."

"Now," Will says hopefully.

"As you wish." He shivers faintly as Will hops back off the table.

"That's what I like to hear," Will murmurs. Then he kisses him, deep and needy. He lets their hips ride together, and Hannibal keeps him close, palms splayed against Will's ass.

"You like that?" Will gasps.

"Feeling you against me? Very much."

Will likes it too. There's a lot to _feel_. He says as much. He can feel Hannibal smile against his brow.

"You're delightful."

"Going to be more delightful in a moment." Will works at his suit pants, unfastening the fly.

That makes Hannibal laugh, a pleased, low rumble. Will smoothes fine wool out of the way, revealing silk boxers. With his heart in his mouth, he slinks down to his knees, back against the counter. Then he tugs down Hannibal's waistband.

The sight of him is electric. Thick, uncut, flushed and hard. Will has to lean in to taste immediately.

"Oh," he breathes. It's so good.

"Will..." a hand curls into his hair gently.

He looks up, lips parted. Hannibal cups his jaw gently.

"Allow me?"

"God, please," Will whispers. He opens wider as Hannibal pushes in over his tongue, rubs teasingly with the head of his cock, thumb against Will's lower lip.

"More?" he murmurs.

Nodding quickly, Will grips his hips. He relaxes and lets him move. His heart is pounding hard, breaths quickening. He watches Hannibal through his lashes.

He looks beautiful, statuesque and elegant even with a flush staining his cheeks and his chest rising and falling quick. He feels so good in Will's mouth. Hot and wide, clean tasting. His hand is steady on Will's chin. He emanates satisfaction. Will basks in it, eyes slipping closed.

"Beautiful boy," Hannibal purrs.

Will moans softly, dipping his head down. He reaches with his hand to help stroke and touches the softness of Hannibal's balls, rolling gently before he strokes up to his shaft. His increased motions draw out a moan. Soft, somehow sweet.

He lets Hannibal's taste flood his tongue and sucks harder, pressing down as far as he can go to feel him in his throat. He thrills at the tremor he can feel in his hips, at Hannibal's hands, tightening slowly in his hair. Good, he thinks, speeding up. He wants Hannibal to come; wants him to see how much Will craves him. He's greedy for it. Spelled by Hannibal entirely. He swallows, breathing through his nose.

"Darling," Hannibal sighs. He pulls Will closer, hips rolling, and holds him gently as he surges deeper.

Will moans a little in his throat, fingers making a tight circle. Letting Hannibal take what he wants is all too easy. He relaxes his throat and feels the burn in his own loins. He has to touch himself. That makes another moan gather, and he presses in even further.

"Oh. Will..." Hannibal sounds entirely admiring. And breathless. Will would smile if he could.

He goes a bit off rhythm with it. It still seems to make Hannibal stutter a little. Good, _good_ , he wants him to come. He's rocking more urgently now. Will keens deep in his throat. Desperate, that's all he knows. He strokes himself, up and down, and tightens his lips around Hannibal. He can taste he's close. It only makes his movements more frantic. He whines in encouragement and Hannibal murmurs desperately in return.

"So warm, Will. So perfect for me." His voice is nearly breathless.

Will silently preens as he starts to stroke him quicker. Between one gasp and the next, he feels him spill. Tastes it on the back of his tongue He groans in appreciation, even though it quickly floods his mouth. He has to stroke the last of it out, the mess spilling down his chin when he pulls back with a gasp.

Hannibal just stares for a moment. Cheeks warming, Will raises a hand to wipe his mouth. He feels Hannibal's fingers on his chin, and then he lifts him by the elbows. Will fastens his flies with thick fingers, dizzied. He only fumbles when Hannibal touches him.

"What can I do for you?"

Will breathes hard. "Just your- I want to be able to kiss you?"

"Mm. Yes, of course," Hannibal touches their lips together as he slowly strokes.

Will shivers, letting himself be crowded back against the counter once more. Hannibal kisses him deeply, stroking his cock. Will can't keep from groaning into his mouth, arching. He presses shamelessly.

Hannibal doesn't seem to mind. His hand is powerful, and Will's knees feel weak. He's holding him though. He's entirely in his power, and he loves it. He wants to be in his power always. Panting, he buries his face into Hannibal's neck. He can't hold back his noises, soft and stuttering and helpless. He's already close. He keens his helpless need, and Hannibal responds with a soothing hum.

"Good boy," he breathes against Will's lips, "let me feel you."

"Hannibal," Will groans, hips pushing forward.

"Come on. Let me see." He tucks his cheek against Will's. "Let me feel."

With a groan, Will obeys. It shocks through him like a current, hot and hard. It curves his spine and opens his throat. His groan spikes and rings out louder. Hannibal's hand moves swift and skilled. He can feel himself spill, hear the slickened noises as Hannibal works it out of him.

"Beautiful boy," he purrs.

Will gasps, whines softly. He's shivering a little now and Hannibal eases up on his touches, stroking up the back of Will's neck to soothe him. Will sags with the sudden release of tension. The contact between their bodies is so soothing. And Hannibal seems heedless of mess. He kisses behind Will's ear with a sigh.

"Beautiful," he says again.

Will thinks he can feel him inhale. He leans harder. "Are you smelling me?" he murmurs.

"Difficult to avoid, like this," Hannibal tells him. "But you smell like my kitchen, and me."

"Interesting combination."

"I like it."

"Glad to hear it," Will sighs softly. Hannibal is still kissing him absently. They seem reluctant to move, both. "Did you say something about taking me home?" Will murmurs.

"I did, are you ready?"

"More than ready," Will breathes, a tingle going up his spine.

"Then let's go."

He does lean down for one more kiss first. Will smiles and lets him take his hand as they turn off the lights and head for the door. Halloween night, and he's going home with his own personal monster. The man still hasn't actually denied being a vampire, he thinks giddily. He thinks he might be getting to like this holiday. And he'll never look at a vampire quite the same way again.


End file.
